Luminous

30 - A Graye Area

Coris was awakened by the combination of asphyxiation and an impending sneeze. A smothering weight flattened his lungs. A soft, warm breeze blew into his nostrils, bringing with it the scent of butter and sugar.

He opened his eyes and nearly propelled his head into the headboard—a pair of glowing green eyes, an inch away from his nose.

"Argh!" Coris yelled.

"Eek!" Meya (for it obviously was she) shrieked as she backpedaled onto the bed. Coris sprang upright, then fell onto his pillow, pinching the bridge of his nose to steady his swimming brain. Once his world stood still, he glowered at the idiot lass,

"What in the three lands were you doing? Trying to suffocate me?" He snapped. Meya cowered, fretting with her hands as she squeaked,

"I'm so sorry, milord. I can't help meself. The beetle..."

"Beetle?"

Meya lunged at his head. With swift, light fingers, she plucked something clinging to his fringe and held it up for him to see.

A tiny, emerald green ladybug with large, shiny golden spots squirmed feebly with its minuscule red legs and antenna on Meya's thumb, pinned down by her forefinger. Assuming he had taken a good enough look, she drew away and let the wee thing crawl free into her palm, cupping her hand over it to stop it from escaping too soon.

"He came in through the window then ended up on his back on the desk. I helped him upright, and he shot off again, but he couldn't find his way out." She prattled on absentmindedly, peering into her hand cave,

"He kept buzzing 'round the room until he landed on your head. Maybe because your hair smells of flowers?"

She turned to him with her glowing green eyes. Coris had been just as mesmerized watching the lass as she'd been watching the bug. Gathering himself, he caressed his hair,

"Possible. I use Hadrian Rose oil on it." He shrugged, seemingly unfettered. Meya blinked, then rolled her eyes,

"Dun you Hadrian folk have any other flowers apart from the Hadrian Rose, milord?" She edged off the bed. Coris sat up, watching as she strode to the window,

"We do. It's just that Mother insist I massage my scalp with it because she's convinced I'm getting prematurely bald."

Meya spun around. Behind her, the ladybug buzzed from her outstretched hands into the sunny spring day. Her eyes traveled to his pillow, where long strands of brown hair lay brittle and lifeless.

"Well, you do shed a lot of hair."

Coris's eyes narrowed, his cheeks tinged with self-conscious pink. Realizing her misstep, Meya swiped some parchment from the desk, then scurried back to her balding fake husband,

"I reckon you just have to eat more, milord. Why, you look like you've just been through a famine."

She knelt beside the bed and smoothed the contracts on the sheets. Moody and silent, Coris slapped the bed for her to clamber up. Meya obliged,

"Your hair needs more food. Fyr, every part of your body needs more food."

Meya's eyes pooled at the region below Coris's midriff. She stifled a laugh with much difficulty,

"Well, almost every."

Coris said nothing. Meya sneaked a glance. Grinning and shaking his head, he turned to the two copies of the contract. Meya looked glumly at her signature at the bottom. Next to Coris's impeccable, ornate print, hers was a puppy's doodle.